


Don't Take that Sinner from Me

by mythras_fire



Series: Friday Night Chats Plot-Bunny Factory [30]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, BAMF Alex Manes, Big Damn Hero Michael Guerin, Free Verse, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by Music, Karma's a bitch, M/M, Pirates, The Gallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23573917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythras_fire/pseuds/mythras_fire
Summary: Upon this Gallows Gate the hooded hangman frog-marched two souls marked for death: one was bad in his bones, the other was the town ne’er-do-well, harmless except in the malevolent eyes of the Governor.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Friday Night Chats Plot-Bunny Factory [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1292960
Comments: 36
Kudos: 16
Collections: Time After Time: A Roswell New Mexico Alternate Era AU Event





	1. Gallows Gate

**Author's Note:**

> And here we have an experimental foray into free verse poetry inspired by the song used in the story title and quoted at the beginning of each chapter, _Devil's Backbone_ by The Civil Wars. I felt like it had a _Pirates of the Caribbean_ vibe to it in sound and lyric, hence the PotC fusion, savvy? Plus, who wouldn't want to see Malex as debonair swashbucklers <3.

> O Lord, O Lord, what have I done?  
>  I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run  
>  O Lord, O Lord, I’m begging you, please  
>  Don’t take that sinner from me  
>  Oh, don’t take that sinner from me

~*~

The archer climbed through the branches of the gnarled live oak tree growing just outside the perimeter of the courtyard where the public gallows cast its pall over the coastal colonial town.  
  
Skin-peelingly hot, the high noon Caribbean Sun seared its way through the gaps in the leaves as he secured his position, strong thighs wrapped securely around the tree limb, silent as a panther stalking its prey.  
  
Heavy wooden doors were pushed open at the opposite end of the courtyard and a flood of jabbering townspeople washed into the square, morbidly fascinated with the hangings about to take place.  
  
No one paid any heed to the man up a tree, just barely visible over the top edge of the whitewash stucco walls, for their eyes were cast eastward, same as the archer’s steady gaze, upon the wooden platform.  
  
Upon this Gallows Gate the hooded hangman frog-marched two souls marked for death: one was bad in his bones, the other was the town ne’er-do-well, harmless except in the malevolent eyes of the Governor.


	2. List of Offenses

> O Lord, O Lord, what do I do  
>  I’ve fallen for someone who’s nothing like you  
>  He’s raised on the edge of the devil’s backbone  
>  Oh, I just wanna take him home  
>  Oh, I just wanna take him home

~*~

The gendarme began reading the List of Offenses brought forth against the two men by the Crown and soon the square filled with a Greek Chorus of scandalized gasps, cries of outrage, and flying produce.  
  
“Let it be known that Mr. Noah Bracken, of parts unknown, is charged with three counts of murder upon innocent young women within the Colony and one count of kidnapping the daughter of the Towne Solicitor.”  
  
The archer scowled as he inspected his quiver, arrowheads glinting in the midday sunlight as more rotten vegetables were lobbed at the condemned man who was straining his eyes trying to glare everyone to death.  
  
“Let it also be known that Mr. Michael Guerin, of this here township, is charged with one count of sins of the flesh with the youngest progeny of certain right honorable personages within the Colony.”  
  
Everyone knew who the gendarme meant even without naming him and the archer sneered along with them for there was no love lost between the townsfolk and Governor Manes, nor nearly as much rubbish thrown.


	3. Oh, What a Smile

> O Lord, O Lord, he’s somewhere between  
>  A hangman’s knot and three mouths to feed  
>  There wasn’t a wrong or a right he could choose  
>  He did what he had to do  
>  Oh, he did what he had to do

~*~

A few more gasps rent the air as those who were privy to such knowledge recalled that Manes had four sons and no daughters, but that did nothing to dissuade the other condemned man from smiling proudly.  
  
And oh, what a smile it was, too: all languid grace and a jaunty cant of his head; golden brown curls, simultaneously manly and disarming, falling into eyes like honeyed leather that pierced through to a man’s soul.  
  
The archer maintained a level head as he watched the hangman check his work before attending to his own, checking and re-checking his bowstring, arrow selected, position steady on the tree branch, heart quiet.  
  
“These two men have been found guilty of their crimes and sentenced to hang by the neck until dead as a lesson to all those who would seek to tear asunder the moral fiber of this fine fearful Christian society.”  
  
Several of the less fervent townsfolk loitering against the back wall made derisive noises upon hearing those final remarks and the archer smiled in agreement as he notched his arrow; the panther crouched low.


	4. Life-Debt

> Give me the burden, give me the blame  
>  I’ll shoulder the load and I’ll swallow the shame  
>  Give me the burden, give me the blame  
>  How many, how many Hail Mary's is it gonna take?

~*~

Timing was everything here because the archer had no margin for error; his aim had to be true and he would only get one shot and it had to be fired at the opportune moment if he wanted to save this man’s life.  
  
And oh, did he ever: he had a life-debt upon which he intended to happily lay down a principal payment today, and for the rest of his life to repay the man for what he sacrificed to secure the archer’s freedom.  
  
He’d tried to bargain when they were found in a compromising position to no avail; he couldn’t stomach the idea of the man he loved more than all the gold doubloons in the Caribbean suffering under his father’s hand.  
  
But his love continued to surprise and amaze him with the strength of his will and the archer had not let his man be maimed in vain, oh no, he had finally found the courage to fight the man who was his war.  
  
As the hangman stood ready by the crankshaft, the archer aimed his bow at the gallows precisely to catch a sunbeam and direct it momentarily into his lover’s eyes to gain his attention as they had agreed upon.


	5. His Very Own Pirate

> Don’t care if he’s guilty, don’t care if he’s not  
>  He’s good and he’s bad and he’s all that I’ve got  
>  O Lord, O Lord, I’m begging you, please  
>  Don’t take that sinner from me  
>  Oh, don’t take that sinner from me

~*~

The panther gathered its strength, wiggled its tail, and pounced so that as the hangman’s knot drew taut, his arrow provided the cover his curly-haired rascal needed to bewitch the noose and slip out of sight.  
  
The archer avenged his friend’s death with a deadly smile as the rightly condemned shaman tried to perform the same trick but the yellow powder now (w)ringing his neck collected on his karmic debt in full.  
  
Sliding gingerly back down the windy tree trunk, the archer carefully detached the small grappling hook from the end of his peg leg, stowed it, and made a clean getaway on his trusty crutch to the rendezvous point.  
  
His friends had played their parts perfectly and Governor Manes had gone apoplectic with rage as his men scrambled ineffectually against the startled townsfolk who had been used as a foil to secret his man away.  
  
“Alex!” Came the voice he heard in his dreams from the deck of _The Airstream_ and the archer’s heart cried, “Michael!” as his very own pirate pulled him aboard for a kiss as they set sail with their buccaneer crew.

~♥~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for calling Michael's tallship _The Airstream_ comes from EmmaArthur's adorable fic, [Cactuses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401822) 🌵.


End file.
